


Genuine Love And Respect Are The Only Things Keeping Us Together

by Ayotofu



Category: Leverage
Genre: A little angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Multi, a little hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:56:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5384993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayotofu/pseuds/Ayotofu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An assortment of Leverage drabbles based on prompts given to me on tumblr.</p>
<p>1: It's snowing on Christmas Eve. Parker's excited. OT3<br/>2: Hardison gets lost in the woods in the middle of a storm. Eliot and Parker find him. OT3<br/>3: Hardison loves Parker. Honestly, he does. But this? This is a step too far. OT3 fluff and humor, Parker/Hardison (Eliot mentioned)<br/>4: Sophie's sick and miserable. She's also driving Hardison crazy. Sophie & Hardison friendship<br/>5: "I didn't do anything, Eliot. I wasn't hurting anyone. W'sn't even trespassing." Hardison gets hurt. Eliot/Hardison Hurt/Comfort<br/>6: Parker's been captured and that stupid bird won't shut up. Parker & Eliot friendship<br/>7: It's Christmas morning. Eliot and Hardison have a surprise for Parker. OT3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's snowing on Christmas Eve. Parker's excited. OT3

Parker gazed out the window, eyes wide with wonder as Hardison rocked her back and forth in his arms. Eliot came up behind them with mugs of steaming hot chocolate which they graciously accepted. Outside the brew pub, fat flakes fell and covered the empty street, leaving a pristine silence.

“What’re you lookin’ at, Parker?” Eliot asked softly.

“It’s _snowing_ ,” Parker said breathlessly.

Eliot stared at her for a long moment, looking like he was on the edge of saying something he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t regret. “It’s been snowing for days now,” he said at last.

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” she said.

Hardison chuckled. “You’ve seen it snow on Christmas Eve before, too, baby girl.”

She shook her head and dislodged herself from Hardison’s arms, frustrated at their lack of understanding. “ _No_ , it’s Christmas Eve. We’re together and it’s a white Christmas. It’s just us, no Nate or Sophie, but Christmas is still… it’s _snowing_ guys.”

She wasn’t sure she’d gotten her point across until her boys both wrapped their arms around her, Hardison from the back, Eliot from the front. Gently, Eliot began to sing.

“ _I’m dreaming of a white Christmas_ …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please come chat with me at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com! I'm always open for more prompts :)


	2. Caught in the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardison gets lost in the woods in the middle of a storm. Eliot and Parker find him. OT3

Hardison always knew what to say to get people to like him. Or to hate him. Or to make sure they remembered him. Sophie was good at pretending to be other people, but Hardison was the best at being fully, 100% _Alec Hardison_.

But now…

Now he was lost in the middle of the woods with the rain pouring down, huddled under a rock alone. He couldn’t talk or hack his way out of this. All he could hope was that Parker and Eliot found him soon.

_Stupid_. He was supposed to be smarter than this. Smarter than someone who got lost trying to follow the mark through the woods (in his defense, that was really more Eliot’s thing).

For a moment, he thought he heard someone calling his name through the storm, but when he didn’t hear it again, he figured it was wishful thinking.

It wasn’t for another ten interminable minutes that he heard it. The unmistakable sound of Eliot shouting, “Dammit, Hardison, where are you?”

Then, somehow even louder, Parker’s voice: “Hardison this is a bad time for Hide and Seek! Which I never thought I’d ever say.”

He tried to respond, tried to scream “Over here! Bring an umbrella for the love of God” but all that came out was a strangled choke. They were _so close_ he could almost reach out and grab their shoulders, but his arms remained glued to his sides and he couldn't find his voice. For once, he was the lost one.

Suddenly, Eliot was _there_ , big and soaking and vaguely pissed. “Parker, over here!” Then: “Why didn’t you say anything? Didn’t you hear us shouting?”

That strange choking noise came out from his throat again. Weird.

Eliot frowned at him at Parker came up behind them. “You okay?”

Hardison could only nod.

Eliot exhaled, letting his shoulders sag like he’d just been relieved of Atlas’s burden.

Parker looked between the two of them, heavy breathing drowned out by the downpour, and pulled them both in for a tight hug. “We’re here, Hardison. I told you: I can’t lose you.”

“You–you,” he stuttered. Dammit, he couldn’t get two words out.

Parker and Eliot, however, understood. “We will always come for you, babe,” Parker said into his shoulder.

Eliot gripped him even tighter. “’Til our dying days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please come chat with me at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com! I'm always open for more prompts :)


	3. Christmas Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardison loves Parker. Honestly, he does. But this? This is a step too far. OT3, Parker/Hardison (Eliot mentioned)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this one might actually be my favorite because holy shit it's fucking adorable

“Nuh-uh. Nope. No way.”

“Oh, come on, Hardison!” Parker said, shaking the ridiculous costume in his face. The bells on the shoes and her little red hat jangled obnoxiously. “For me?”

“You do not get to pull the puppy eyes on me, girl! Besides, I don’t see you bothering Eliot with an… elf costume.”

Parker rolled her eyes. “That’s because he’s _Santa_ , duh. And he’s already wearing his outfit. You’re the only one not in the Christmas spirit.”

“I’m _in_ the Christmas spirit. I got Christmas spirit up the wazoo. What I do _not_ have is _elf spirit_.” He paused then, registering what she had just said. “Wait. Eliot is in costume.”

“Yup! I want us all to take a picture for a Christmas card.”

“He– _willingly_? And–and who are we gonna send a Christmas card too, the FBI?”

“No, silly. It’s for Nate and Sophie! And maybe Archie. Well, mostly Sophie. And of course he put it on willingly,” she said, suddenly switching from perky to pouty. “ _He_ loves me.”

It’s a challenge. She’s manipulating him. Parker’s never been particularly subtle.

But fuck it, it works.

“ _Fine_.”

–

Sophie smiled down at the picture. Parker was grinning form ear to ear on Eliot’s left knee while Hardison sat, arms crossed, on his right. Eliot and Hardison both looked grumpy. Frowny. But they also looked happier than she’d ever seen them.

“That girl has them wrapped around her pinky,” she muttered to herself with a smile. Her babies were all grown up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please feel free to come chat with or prompt me at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com


	4. For Dramatic Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie's sick and miserable. She's also driving Hardison crazy. Sophie & Hardison friendship

“ _Ahhh-choo!_ ”

“Oh, hell naw,” Hardison says, picking up a kleenex to wipe the mucus and spittle off his computer screen before depositing it in the now almost-full trash can. Sophie lets out a pathetic sniffle, giving him her most sincere, mournful, hangdog expression and Hardison rolls his eyes. “I stopped feeling sorry for you an hour ago, girl. Now sneeze into your damn tissues.”

“ _Everything alright in there?_ ” Nate asks over the comms.

“No, everything is not _alright_. Your girlfriend keeps sneezing over my equipment. Have you ever heard of _hygiene_?”

The line is silent for a good minute before Sophie mumbles, “He hung up a while ago.”

“I… knew that.”

She doesn’t say anything for a minute and Hardison returns to his _very important hacking_ when:

“Did you know I once did the whole Tom Sawyer thing? With the apple and the fence? Well, not exactly the same thing, it was a 40 karat diamond and a janitorial shift, but I did it.” She sighs dramatically (but the effect was ruined by the thick congestion). “Look at me now. No one would give me a chocolate bar!”

As it turns out, the only thing worse than Sophie’s stage acting was her self-pity routine.

“ _Sophie_! I am trying to work here. So would you please _shut up_?” Hardison shouts.

Sophie gets a lot quieter after that and he almost feels guilty. Soon, her eyes slip closed and her breathing evens out (though there’s this annoying whistling coming from her nose) and Hardison relaxes a little bit. Honestly, she should be in bed, but she insisted that she would wait in the van _just in case they needed her_ but so far all she’s done is infect his Lucille.

And finally the van is silent but for the clacking of the computer keys.

Wait. _Silent_. He can’t hear that annoying whistling from Sophie’s nose anymore.

“Shit,” he says, trying to maneuver his way to where Sophie lay slumped at the other end of the van. “Shit shit _shit_.”

He puts a hand to her forehead and it’s definitely warm but he has no idea how warm is too warm and he still doesn’t hear her breathing. “Sophie! Sophie wake up!” He slaps her face lightly. “Come on girl, don’t do this. Come on. Open your eyes.”

Slowly, her lids crack open. In a pathetic, croaky voice, she says, “You _do_ care.”

And at that moment, all Hardison can think to say is: "What the fuck Sophie. What. The. Fuck."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please feel free to send me a prompt at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com


	5. Police Brutality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I didn't do anything, Eliot. I wasn't hurting anyone. W'sn't even trespassing." Hardison gets hurt. Eliot/Hardison Hurt/Comfort

“Did you find it yet?” Eliot asked.

“ _Of course I haven’t found it yet! There’s only about eighty_ billion _boxes back here to look through_.” Hardison sounded particularly petulant and Eliot smirked from inside the (stolen) car, with its heated seats and no wind chill. “ _It’s way too cold out here for me to work quickly, man. And believe me, you will know when I find it. Very loudly. Also, next time_ you _get to dig through the mountains of files dumped at an empty, unheated, breezy warehouse in the middle of January_.”

Eliot just laughed.

Suddenly, an angry voice that definitely wasn’t Hardison crackled over the comms. “ _Hey! You!_ ” Before Hardison could respond or Eliot could ask who that was, he heard a gunshot–first outside the car and then less than a millisecond later in his ear–and then an accompanying cry of pain that he _knew_ was Hardison.

He was out of the car and running across the street before he’d even fully registered what was going on.

When he reached the warehouse, there were three things he immediately noticed:

1) Hardison, on the ground with blood draining from a hole in his leg. No arterial spray, though, so with proper medical care he’d live.

2) There was a man holding a gun on him, red-faced and white-knuckled, screaming profanities as he lined up another shot.

3) The gunman was a cop.

Eliot wasn’t totally sure what happened after that. The world went red and all he saw was his target, this piece of human garbage who had shot his friend and was prepared to shoot him again–even though Hardison was clearly defenseless. Then the scumbag was on the ground, unconscious, blood pouring from a broken nose.

With that problem dealt with, Eliot turned his attention to someone infinitely more important.

As he began bandaging his friend’s wound enough to move him (he could take care of this back at the brew pub, and taking him to the hospital would only draw the police), Hardison grabbed his arm. “I didn’t do anything, Eliot,” he said, teary eyes staring straight into Eliot’s. “I wasn’t hurting anyone. W’sn’t even trespassing–this is public property.”

“I know.”

“Why’d he shoot me? He working for the mark or something?”

Eliot sighed. “I don’t think so.”

Hardison looked at the ground. “I didn’t really think so, either.”

“Hey,” Eliot said, cupping Hardison’s chin and trying to think of something, anything to say to make this _better_.

Instead, he found himself crashing his lips against Hardison’s. The other man was stiff with shock for a moment before he reciprocated the kiss for an all-too-fleeting moment before Eliot pulled away. They’d kissed before, once or twice, but Eliot was always hesitant, unsure of himself, and he’d _never_ initiated anything.

“What–what was that for?” Hardison asked, breathless.

“Thought enough bad shit had happened to you today,” he said. “Thought I’d give you something nice to focus on instead.”

Despite the pain–which was really saying something when Hardison was involved, the man whined for hours when he got a bee sting–Hardison had never grinned at Eliot so fully.

“Aww,” he said. “You _do_ love me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're probably tired of me saying this, but please come prompt me at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com!


	6. Broken Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker's been captured and that stupid bird won't shut up. Parker & Eliot friendship

The bird was screeching again.

Not for the first time, Parker wished she could reach up into the vent and snap its neck, if only to put it out of its misery. If it could have flown out, it would have done so long ago. But she could see through the slits in the vent cover that one of its wings was broken.

It was probably kind of messed up that her first thought was “kill it” and not “help it” but the high pitched shrieking was driving her crazy. And anyway, she didn’t know _how_ to fix anything. Not like Hardison and his computers.

Then again, she didn’t know how to break stuff either. That was all Eliot. All she could do was steal stuff.

Right now, however, she couldn’t even steal herself, chained to the wall as she was. Whoever took her clearly knew who they were dealing with because her arms and legs were chained, each limb stretched apart from the others. Her wrists and shoulders ached with the strain of being held in the same position for so long (hours? days? there was no time here) and her legs threatened to give out beneath her but she couldn’t sit down because her arms were held tight over her head.

And that stupid bird would not _shut up_.

“You’re not the only one stuck here!” she yelled, tears streaming down her face from the pain. “Stop _whining_.”

Oh God. She was going to die here.

But they were coming for her. Eliot and Hardison were coming for her. In every bad position she’d ever been in before she’d met them, she had never once had that assurance. And now, that alone was what kept her going.

It kept her going until she finally heard the telltale sounds out Eliot beating the shit out of some unfortunate scumbags. Until the door creaked open and there he stood, panting and a little bloody (she doubted much of it was his), his eyes desperately searching her for signs of injury. She knew she was bruised and her left shoulder dislocated at some point, but she’d live.

“God, Parker, I’m so sorry it took us so long,” he was saying, coming toward her with a set of keys he must have taken off one of the guys he’d beaten (maybe even killed, she thought vindictively) to get to her. As he pulled her off the wall, she collapsed into his arms. Distantly, she noted that she was still crying, and she’d opened her mouth to speak but all that came out were choking, gasping sobs. She’d be embarrassed if she wasn’t so damn relieved.

“The bird,” she said when she could talk again. “It’s stuck in the vent.”

“What?” he said, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“It wouldn’t stop crying. Its wing is broken and it can’t go anywhere. Make it stop, Eliot,” she pleaded. “Make it stop.”

His expression cleared. “Okay,” he said gently, leaning her against the wall. He went over to the vent and grabbed the bird as it uselessly tried to fly away. With one smooth motion, he broke its neck and it was beautifully, blissfully silent.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“It’s okay,” he said, coming back over to hold her in his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re gonna be fine. Me and Hardison, we’re gonna fix you right up.”

She sniffled. “I know.”

He carried her out, leaving the bird alone on the floor behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that's it for the prompts I've already gotten. if y'all want any more pls send me a prompt at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com. other than that, well, that's all!


	7. A Picture's Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas morning. Eliot and Hardison have a surprise for Parker. OT3

It was nine AM, and Eliot had been cooking for three hours.

There was an egg and sausage casserole cooking in the oven and a loaf of pumpkin chocolate chip bread cooling on the counter. Apple cider was mulling in a slow cooker and coffee was percolating next to it. The air was so heavy with spices he could almost taste it. The only sounds were the _drip-drop_ of the coffee, the hum of the oven, and the steady chopping of Eliot’s knife as he cut into an apple for a fruit salad.

“Mornin’ Eliot,” Hardison mumbled, shuffling into the kitchen in his robe and making a beeline for the coffee. “How long’ve you been up.”

“A while,” Eliot said, not breaking the rhythm of his knife. “Parker still out?”

“Like a light.” Parker had recently learned the joys of sleeping in late and she could be damn near impossible to wake up. “Did you get it set up already?”

“See for yourself.” Eliot gestured with the knife to the other room.

“You know, it’s really freaky when you point to shit with a weapon,” Hardison said as he moved to look in on Eliot’s handiwork. Eliot just laughed and popped a piece of apple in his mouth.

“Alright, that’s good, that’s good. Now we just wait for Parker, eh?”

“Now we wait,” Eliot agreed, still facing the counter and away from Hardison. “And don’t you touch my pumpkin bread, Hardison.”

Hardison jerked his hand away from the bread like he’d been burned.

\--

The problem with a speechless, teary Parker, Eliot thought, was that it was hard to tell if she was happy or upset. Sophie would probably know without hesitation. Still, in this case, Eliot was willing to bet it was the former.

“Oh my god you _guys_ ,” she whispered.

The room was totally decked out in Christmas–which wasn’t in and of itself odd since Parker went a little Christmas-crazy every year. But there, on the far wall, was a massive collage of pictures of the three of them. Paris. Dubai. Botswana. Baghdad. The one where Eliot got covered in hot chocolate. The one where Parker made them all dress up as Santa and his elves.

“A little present from Santa,” Hardison murmured.

“I love it,” she said, still barely a whisper. “You guys. I love you.”

“Come on,” Eliot said. “Let’s eat.”

They kept the wall up for the rest of their lives together, adding new pictures along the way until it was several layers thick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, please come prompt me at ayo-tofu.tumblr.com if you would like any more of these ficlets!


End file.
